The Gripping Tale of Beasley
by MadMoomin
Summary: Have you ever wondered what story Beasley was about to tell Layton and co before being inevitably swatted by Puzzlette? Because I have! So, here is the tale of a lonely drone's triumph over adversity.


**Hello and I'm back already! Thank you everyone who reviewed my last story! If you didn't read it, then do, it's the best thing I've done yet! I am about to start writing my first Professor Layton adventure but this idea popped into my head and IT HAD TO BE DONE BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE!... Sorry…**

The Gripping Tale of Beasley

Now, I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself, you all remember me, right? No? What?! I was one of the major characters in The Lost future! Still don't remember?! The Great Puzzle Bee? NO?! The one with the flower? Yeah, yeah that's me (at least I'm remembered for something). Well, you see, I'm no ordinary bee, In fact I'm probably the least ordinary bee you'll ever come across, but no one, I repeat, no one has ever taken an interest in my back story. That was until some kid wearing blue FINALLY asked how I became the worlds most abnormal bee, however there were some… Interruptions. Anyway, as I was robbed of that glorious moment of telling my past, I'm gonna make you listen to it, and you are gonna listen! So, 'ere it is, the gripping tale of Beasley.

There was a time when I was not an extraordinary puzzle bee, in fact, I was pretty normal. I would spend the days, buzzing around, BEEing myself! Ah ha! Get it? BEE-ing!... ah hm. So, anyway, one day when we was mindin' our own business, when some blokes come an' stick this, thing, in our hive. I know now that it was a smoke gun, but at the time we bees had a good mind to give it a royal stinging. All of the sudden, the dreadful machine started blowing its awful smoke. Bees dropped from the sky, I thought it was all over, but when we all woke up, something even more puzzling met our small eyes.

No more trees, no more grass or fresh air, our new home was a wooden, square box in a room with metal walls. The only thing in the room that linked to the outside world were these pots of flowers, but they weren't like any flowers we'd ever seen before, they smelled odd, they tasted odd, something about them seemed so, fake. But we were starving, and so, we feed from these plants.

After a few weeks of this, things started happening to us. we grew bigger, a lot became disfigured, I knew one guy who grew an extra wing on his face! Bees were dropping dead left and right until there was only a handful of us left, only 7 of the remaining were still intact. then one day, it happened again, the smoke gun.

I came to, to find myself in a glass container along with the other 6 who still had their limbs in the right place, as for the rest of the disfigured drones, I can only guess that they were put out of their misery, us 7 weren't so lucky. This next part may sound a bit odd to you, maybe even funny, but you must understand that what you are about to hear is quite probably the worst form of torture imaginable, and I lost my fellow survivors to it. There was a tube leading into the container, out of it came a gas more terrifying than any other substance imaginable, something I can only describe as 'evaporated puzzles'. No sooner had we inhaled the gas, the puzzles kicked in, I saw sliding puzzles, maths puzzles, logic puzzles. Big puzzles, small puzzles, easy and hard puzzles. I saw the questions, I saw the answers and how to work it out step by step, I have no idea how long we were in there, perhaps seconds, but it felt like hours. No brain that small could hold so much information, and ours were no exception, the puzzles expanded our minds, literally, the pain was the most agonising thing you can imagine. Around me, the others heads exploded one by one until I was the only one left alive, soon I began to feel the pressure building up in my own head, I cried out. "STOP!" And it did, the gas was gone in moments and my limp body collapsed, I was in so much pain I didn't notice someone moving me into a different container, I didn't realise I had just spoken, like a human.

Over time I recovered, for weeks I was kept in captivity where they would only feed me if I could read a few lines of a book or solve a puzzle, at the time they called me Subject 2. One day there was a bit of a commotion, something about Subject 3 escaping, and one guy knocked my container clean off the table! I was miraculously unharmed and the broken container allowed me to make my escape.

Outside of the prison, I was a lost cause, normal bees would fly away in fear of me, and as for being able to able to talk, well, you can imagine how well that went down with some people! However, I now had a new ability, puzzles from all places would find their way to me, this talent was recognised by Granny Riddleton and I became her successor… Until a certain Puzzlette decided to use some rather forceful means of taking that title.

So, here I am, the broken and bandaged Beasley, those scientists gave me a mind, a voice and my magnetic personality, but they took everything that made me beeish. So, next time someone asks you what the most touching, terrifying and heartfelt story you've ever heard about a bee is, drop the Bee Movie and tell them the tale of Beasley.


End file.
